Into the Twilight
by 3iggy
Summary: A girl can get herself into a lot of trouble when she's the kind of girl who falls into fairy-tales. I thought my acquaintance with the Goblin King was long over until fate tossed me into his arms and my heedless words bought me a seat at his tea-party. (A continuation of Yellow Light). /This is more or less a slow-burning, playful, romance./
1. Chapter 1

I had so much fun with the Sarah and Jareth from Yellow Light that I decided to allow them some more adventures. This is going to be a slow-burner. It is not easy arranging a Romance between a mortal girl and a king of goblins. Thanks for reading, and know that I appreciate your thoughts (your pointing out of typos) and feedback. The best part of writing on a platform like this is getting to interact with people who love the same things as I do. Oh, and if you haven't read Yellow Light, you should be fine. Just keep in mind that Sarah has re-encountered the GK and may have used the W- word in his illustrious presence.

Happy Reading & Poem is W.B. Yates "Into the Twilight"

* * *

OUT-WORN heart, in a time out-worn,  
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;  
Laugh heart again in the gray twilight,  
Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

* * *

The leaves rattled in skeleton trees as I shoved the last box into the back of my little red volvo.

"You know you don't have to move out, Sarah?" Dad said for the third time.

"I know." I replied once more.

"She's nineteen years old Robert. Young women need their space." Irene laid a hand on my shoulder in solidarity.

"I'll be closer to the university and the theater, dad. And, it's only fifteen minutes away. I'm practically driving down the street." I smiled.

"Exactly, it's not saving you that much time. It'd be cheaper to stay at home." He shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Oh, Robert." Irene sighed.

"I'll be fine." I hugged them both. "Tell Toby that I'll see him in a couple of days." I rushed to the car before dad could develop more reasons for me to stay at home for the rest of my life.

I'd stayed the first two years of college and I was ready to taste a bit of freedom. My unexpected return to the land of Twilight had awoke a certain wild need for change. It was time.

Oranges and pinks stained the autumn skyline as the street lights hummed to life. My car pulled into the gravel drive of the small house. Fortune had smiled upon me when it became available to rent. It had always looked odd, a little cottage on an old street full of tall Victorians. But, it was cute and affordable and not a horrible, loud, dirty dorm. I could never stomach the idea of sharing a room with a stranger or living in such a crowd of chaos. Dorm life was not for me.

The door creaked open pleasantly. It smelled a bit like dried flowers. No one had lived there since Ms. Tilda moved last summer to live with her niece. The niece had rented the house to me.

Merlin had settled in nicely. He was wagging his tail and enjoying the thick rug laid out before the fireplace. All of Ms. Tilda's well-kept-though elderly-furniture was still in the house. I had pulled off the white covers and beat out most of the dust.

"All we need now boy, is a few candles and some food." I collapsed onto the flora print sofa.

Merlin wagged his tail in reply.

It was then that I saw the envelope sitting innocently on the coffee table. Swirling script spelled out my name.

 _Sarah._

Thirteen days had passed since my dance with the Goblin King. I grabbed the envelope, ripped it open, and pulled out a simple little card. It read:

 _Thirteen O'clock Tea_

That was all.

"Huh." I leapt from the sofa and stormed through the house, flipping on every light and checking every corner. There was nothing. Not a trace of goblin minions or a hint of a feather.

"Can he do that, Merlin? Shouldn't there be rules like with vampires? Surely, I should have to invite him in before he can simply waltz through my house?" Merlin said very little. He didn't appear to be the least bit concerned with defending the premises against any misbegotten immortals.

"I don't even know when Thirteen O' Clock is?" I mumbled.

The vanity in the bedroom was the only piece of furniture that I'd brought with me from home. Nothing about it was outwardly extraordinary. But, things are so seldom what they seem.

"Hoggle?" I watched the surface of the mirror. Sometimes the grumpy little dwarf answered, sometimes he didn't. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when we could speak to each other. The first time we had spoken in the mirror had been while the walls between my world and his were weak, after my defeat of the Labyrinth. I would never pretend to know how or why those in the Twilight realms crossed the veil to talk to the mortals. But, they did and sometimes they brought us back with them.

As I waited for Hoggle memories of his land, trapped in an eternal dusk, filled my mind. It wasn't beautiful, not as the the Autumn Court was beautiful. The Labyrinth had a roguish type of charm, much like its master. It was a storm-washed land bathed in the color of lightening and thunder clouds. If you've ever seen the sunset after a summer storm you know exactly what I mean.

"Sarah?" Asked the gruff little voice as Hoggle's weathered face shimmered into view.

"Hoggle, it's so good to see you! I've tried to talk to you several times over the past year without any luck." I leaned closer to his reflection.

"Ah, well. You ain't missed much." He huffed.

"No, I suppose not." I laughed. "Hoggle, you'll never guess who I ran into at the Autumn Court a couple weeks ago. Oh, and I saw the King of Winter, Hoggle. Isn't that wonderful?" I glanced across the room at the unfinished watercolor that held my memories of that night.

"I can't see wat's so wonderful about that. Winter's a horrible thing from wot I've heard." He snorted.

"It has it's highlights, like Christmas and hot chocolate." I grinned.

"Pah, human stuff." He grumbled. But, Hoggle was always a grumble. It was his nature, I knew that he was glad to see me nonetheless.

"Hoggle, when is Thirteen o'clock?" I asked, remembering my current dilemma.

"Why do you want to know?" He squinted his watery eyes.

"I have an invitation to tea."

"From who?" Suspicion was thick in his cagey voice.

"Well, it doesn't say exactly." Which was true. "But, I assume it is from the Goblin King." I tried to sound nonchalant.

"Ugh." Hoggle smacked his palm against his furry brow. "How, Sarah?"

"Well, I danced with him at the Winter King's Advent." I waved the comment off as if partnering with Twilight nobility for celebratory dances was a common enough occurrence for me.

"He's nothing but trouble, Sarah. You of all people should know that." Hoggle sighed out.

"Yes, yes. I know. I am not likely to forget that he grants wishes thoughtlessly and drops unsuspecting young girls into oubliettes." My dealings with the Goblin King in the past were not hazy at all as some memories are. His cold comments and superior scowls were etched into my brain.

"You mortals are nothin but playthings to the likes of him." Hoggle crossed his arms and frowned.

"I know, Hoggle, everyone is a plaything to the great Goblin King. But, you haven't answered my question. When is thirteen o'clock?" His attitude too closely resembled the one I was trying to push to the back of my mind. The Goblin King was dangerous, even if I wanted to ignore the fact for now.

"Well, it's after twelve o'clock and before one o'clock. Everybody knows that. Now I ain't got time to help little girls get themselves into trouble. Bye, Sarah." Hoggle vanished from view.

I sighed heavily. Angering Hoggle had not been my intention.

"Merlin, maybe Hoggle's right." I glanced at the dog who'd hopped up upon the foot of the bed. "We've no reason to entertain the notions of goblin men do we?"

Merlin's drowsy gaze seemed to imply that young women who made heedless wishes during Advent festivities in fairy-courts should probably step lightly lest they offend said goblin men.

"Well, he'll have to learn to leave more detailed invitations."

My tired limbs ached as I pulled myself out of the chair. Thanks to my earlier bout of paranoia, I needed to turn all the lights off and check the locks on the doors before I was able to join Merlin in the cuddly nest of blankets. The effort was thoroughly exhausting. Sleep swelled up to meet me as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It's hard to say how long I slept because my eyes flung themselves open suddenly in the night and the clock near the bed flashed _13:00_ at me merrily.

My chest tightened and it was entirely possible that my heart attempted to leap out of it as I sat up in the bed. Feet found slippers and away I went as Merlin trailed after me curiously. I wasn't thinking clearly, but I knew where to go.

We bounded down the stairs and rounded the corner. A faint rosy light glowed along the edges of the cupboard underneath the stairs. I pulled the door open without any hesitation and fell into another world.

The hazy light of the Labyrinth was the first sign that I had indeed traveled back into the Underground. But, I was in a place I'd not seen before. A rectangular table sat in the middle of a walled garden. Two teacups and a copper-colored pot crowned the table with it's tattered white cloth. When I approached the table I noticed that two plates displaying tiny delicious-looking cakes were also present.

"I've dreamt of this." I told Merlin as I sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. "Am I dreaming now?" I wondered aloud

"Not dreaming." Was the amused response. "But, you're late."

My head swung around on my neck so quickly I feared it would snap. The Goblin King was sitting in the other spindly chair grinning madly.

"I don't have a thirteen o'clock." I replied stupidly.

"Excuses." The Goblin King shook a gloved finger in my direction. Merlin had climbed beneath his majesty's chair and was sleeping contentedly.

"Why did you want to have tea with me?" I asked, glancing at the spread warily.

"It's something to pass the time I suppose. And, I might add that we are not playing a game here, darling girl. You can eat and drink without fear." His eyes laughed at me.

"Fine." Sarah Williams was no fearful little girl. I would eat his damn cake and drink his probably sub-par tea.

To my surprise they were both quite good. "What type of tea is this?" I asked after he poured me a second cup.

"Peach." He replied flippantly.

I nearly dropped my saucer. "What?"

"It is tea made from an herb that only grows within the Labyrinth. We call it Abysse." He grinned. "Look at us being all civil and well-behaved."

"Yes, well. You said that there were no games, so I'll take you at your word. You may be many things, but I don't remember one of them being a liar. You kept all your promises." I swallowed hard, the cold realization that I was sitting in a walled garden having a mad tea party with the King of the Goblins was dawning on me.

"I did." He inclined his head to me.

Silence reigned for a few minutes.

"You invited me here to pass the time you said. Are you bored?" I tried to sound polite, but I really needed to know why I was there. Was it is a whim or something more sinister?

Jareth stared at me for an uncomfortable moment. His gaze seemed ancient in comparison to his ageless face.

"A creature as old as I am can be _bored_ only in the same manner that a mountain or star could be so called. A mountain looks out upon an unchanging plain for centuries on end just as a star peers across the same galaxies. I am much like that." His voice was soft.

"So was I during the Dance of the Winter King. For centuries I've attended and saw the same thing each time, until the last when I caught sight of you. A mortal girl with dreams in her eyes and glee in her footsteps. Only after I traced the familiar shape of those dreams, however, did I recognize you. We forget that your kind change so swiftly when we remain the same for so very long." He glanced down into his tea.

"When I saw you dance and heard you laugh it was like the mountain watching and earthquake ripple across his everstill plain or the star who was fortunate enough to see a sun born out of the empty void beside her. Surprise is such a strange and welcome feeling." The Goblin King gracefully tipped himself back in the chair and stared at me frankly.

I felt the blood rush up my veins and pour into my cheeks. Jareth had the tongue of a poet, I'd known that all along. How many times in a creative writing course had I been tempted to steal a phrase like _I move the stars for no one_ , or _I'll paint you mornings of gold_?

"Alright, your majesty. Are you in a roundabout and completely too ornate way trying to say that you'd like to spend time with an unpredictable mortal like myself?" I canted my head and clasped my hands in my lap. It was as much dignity as I could muster in my flannel nightgown.

"I thought we could come to some kind of arrangement, _eventually_." In the span of a heartbeat his eyes went from soft and laughing back to the hard and bitter ice I remembered them being.

"For now, I think you should just have more tea." He smirked. "But, I would prefer it if you called me Jareth, girl."

"And, I would prefer it if you called me Sarah." I retorted childishly.

"It would be my pleasure, Sarah." Jareth's voice made my name a purr and I cursed myself inwardly. It was going to be a very long hour.


	2. Betty Davis Eyes

I'm not sure if anyone is keeping up with this little story. I am writing it more for fun than anything, it's just a collection of ideas or scenes, rather than a full on epic or plot driven monstrosity. I'm playing Jarth's otherness up a bit more, and my Sarah is a little more demure than usual, but it's interesting to do something a little bit different. I appreciate anyone out there who is reading my experiment.

Cheers

* * *

"You're doing that wrong." His crystalline voice bounced off the mirror and crashed into me.

The black eyeliner pencil hovered above my skin as I stared at him in the mirror. It'd been months since we had spoken, months since his velvet tones danced upon my eardrums. I was certain that if I took my eyes away from his image to look behind me, he'd be gone, so I spoke to the mirror.

"You would know," I wanted to smile, but his recent absence tightened my lips.

"Turn around," his pike-ish grin made my heart sputter. This was a new reaction.

I did as he asked, but I made sure to move with as much indignation as I could muster. He was sitting in a chair that had not been there the moment before I turned to face him. Jareth plucked the pencil from my hand and tilted my face with his leather bound fingers. It took every ounce of self control that I possessed not to react to his touch.

Watching him was dangerous so I thought about how divinely he clashed with my yellow and blue pinstriped bedroom. He was all black leather and fury caged in butter creams and ceruleans. And, he was wielding my eyeliner like some fairytale godmother would her wand. Lining my eyes had always been a difficult task. My hand was too heavy, and I didn't make a very good looking raccoon.

"Where've you been?" I asked after a moment. He wasn't catching on to my inner turmoil, or he didn't care.

"What do you mean?" He moved to the other eye.

"I mean, I've not heard from you in a while." He smelled like wind blown hills and avalanches.

"Time is a fickle thing." I could hear the snicker in his voice.

"As are you." I sighed.

"Sarah," the eyeliner was gone, and his fingers were suddenly a vice. His inhuman eyes searched my face, I'm not sure what they were looking for.

"What are you trying to say to me?"

"I just thought I'd see more of you. That's all." I thought about telling him to remove his hand from my face, but at that moment I was clumsy, unsure how to proceed. His moods were changing like the moon tides. He was a fickle thing.

"So you missed me?" His teeth flashed then—a true Cheshire grin—and suddenly his hand on my face was more of a caress.

"Maybe," I turned away from him to survey his handiwork in the looking glass. Two sets of kohl rimmed eyes stared back at me. The lines on mine were thinner, more delicate, they were perfect.

"You're good at this," I said.

"I'm good at many things," he chuckled. "I will try to make minding time one of them."

"You didn't have any trouble with that when I ran your labyrinth, but it's alright," I felt so awkward. This relationship was easier to navigate when our parts were cast more firmly. How did Jareth think of me? What did I think of him? What were we doing? These were all things I couldn't ask. Even if I could I doubted that he would answer them.


End file.
